You press your fingers into my side.

Slow stroll, no immediate destination,
Which is deemed good.
My mood elevates slowly,
Gradual, yet violent in every neuron,
Raising flags with your name.

The sweet smell of cinnamon and your peach perfume burn my nose.

Five month interval,
Before: Six month,
Prior: Sixteen years.
The buffer period makes me wonder,
If your idea even existed then.

Brother and sister,
We laugh at lovers.

We laugh out of time,
Out of tune,
Out of love and peace and whatever made you so sweet?
Make sure to visit soon,
okay kid?

my heart was equally as warm
as the small rubs of motion and
emotion of the most human of
interaction.
you drew the burden out of
the deep well burying
what i thought was only normal
apathy.
i can only request for you to stomp
harder on what i formerly believed so dear
because what you call empathy in me
is all i can see in you.

I left my future to an orange tube,
Though the barrel non-lethal by law.

There's slavery in shooting blanks against your head,
Til the day one blows your brains out,
While experts increase caliber,
To fit tolerance.

I'd think I'm dead,
But I'll reload every 90 days,
just in case.

twist
pull
rip
tear
repeat

the desk needs tidying
tea boxes scattered
focus on the bed
the comfy bed that
needs to be made
but no one can make you leave

pace 3 steps
you took four
back 5 steps

maybe an hour
in the comfy bed
yea, two hours

3 hours
rise
twist
pull

the desk needs tidying
class missed

pace 4 steps
be fair
back 4 steps

maybe a half hour
tear blanket from bed
but it is dinner time
rip skin

repeat

I have this stack of
letters that I saved just for
you but there are no stamps
nor envelopes nor
mailmen that can assist me
in my fifth or sixth
attempt to reach
you. There are no
landlines nor roads nor
rivers that span as far
as the distance between
us that ties us
together. My legs
itch my back stings my
eyelids stick but
my heart stands
still taped to the
reverse of my
letters for you.